by Addison Cole
Josh took her through the maze of rooms, each one bigger than the previous one, passing furniture so rich and finely made that she was afraid to touch it. Do people really live this way?
She unpacked her meager belongings in the master bedroom outfitted for a king and queen. A four-poster bed that she needed a footstool to climb into graced the center of the room between two eight-foot windows. Cherry furniture with elaborate carvings that could only be handmade lined the walls. A mirror larger than her bedroom wall back home hung above the oversized dresser. It looked like it belonged in an upscale showroom.
She escaped to the kitchen, hoping to feel more comfortable away from the expensive woods and textures. She was not that lucky. Riley lowered herself onto a barstool in the enormous kitchen. She’d always imagined that living in a lavish home would be exciting. She not only felt out of place, but she felt downright lonely, even with Josh just down the hall in the ridiculously large master suite. She pushed to her feet and flew into his arms when he came looking for her.
“You okay?” He rubbed her back.
“I’ve just never stayed anywhere like this before. It’s huge. Why would he have such a huge place? I mean, even with Max, it seems really, really big. I thought he was so down-to-earth.” She snuggled into him, wishing she were back at Savannah’s.
“He is down-to-earth. Who he is isn’t linked to the homes he owns. That’s real estate, investments. Treat is the man you always thought he was. It’s a bit big. I’ll admit that. But don’t judge him based on his apartment.” He took a deep breath. “Riley, come with me.” He took her hand and led her out of Treat’s apartment, down the elevator, and into his own apartment.
“Where are we going? Don’t tell me he owns two of these monsters,” she said.
He withdrew the key from his jeans pocket and unlocked the door. “This is my home,” he said.
Riley covered her mouth. I’m such an idiot. “Insert foot in mouth,” she said. “I’m sorry. I’m just not used to these types of luxuries. And I’m not a handout. A thousand dollars a month wouldn’t even pay for someone to wash his windows.”
“Relax, babe. It’s not like he needs the money,” Josh said. He put his hand on the small of her back and guided her forward.
Riley hadn’t spent much time picturing Josh’s apartment, and as she walked through the lavish rooms, she realized that she saw pieces of him everywhere. Instead of velvet couches, like Treat’s, his were leather and cloth, with chenille throws across the back and thick brown area rugs covering the hardwood. His apartment felt very masculine, very Josh. She glanced over the bookshelves, where she found not only books, but candles and other knickknacks. She picked up a heavy metal frog holding a magnifying glass and raised an eyebrow in question.
He shrugged. “He was cute.”
She set it back down and picked up a picture of a very young Hugh standing beside a red car. “He looks happy.”
“His first race. I took that right before he headed out to the track.” She set it down and ran her finger along the books: a mixture of fine literature and recent fiction. “You’re a reader?”
He shrugged again. “When I have time.”
“Candles. For your hot dates?” she teased. Inside she winced, not wanting to hear the answer.
“I’ve never had a woman I dated in my apartment.”
Riley spun around. “No way,” she said.
“Way,” he said. “I told you. I’m a private guy. My place is my place. It’s the one place I can come and feel…I don’t know…safe, away from the scrutiny of the public. Bringing a woman up here would bring that world in. I didn’t want that.”
She asked the question that begged to be asked. “What if you wanted to, you know…”
“They had apartments.” Each word was laced with honesty.
“Eight years and not one single woman in your bed? Come on, Josh,” Riley said.
“Eight years and not one woman in my bed,” he assured her.
She couldn’t imagine having that sort of self-control. It seemed unimaginable. Could he be saying what he thought she might want to hear? She searched his eyes and came away knowing that he was telling her the truth.
“So I’ll be the first?” she asked, reaching for his hand.
“We’ll see,” he teased. “Hopefully the last.”
She wrapped her arms around him and realized that he’d invited her over to his apartment after their first date. “Josh, you invited me here after you took me through the subway that first night, remember?”
“I remember that night very well, and I hope I never forget it,” he said with a smile.
“But…if you’ve never had a woman here…”
He shrugged. “It’s you, Riley. My heart always wanted it to be you.”
“That’s a lot of pressure for a girl,” she said. She went to the mantel, which was decorated with family photos in mismatched, though expensive, wood frames. Pictures of each of his siblings, his father, and even one photograph of Max and Jade sitting side by side, smiled back at her.
“Your mom,” she said, pointing to the one of Adriana Braden. His mother had been stunning, with auburn hair and green eyes, just like Savannah. In the photograph, her eyes sparkled and her mouth was open, her head angled back, as if she had been caught laughing.
“She’s always around,” he said.
She crossed the living room to the balcony, upon which were two iron chairs. “Your favorite place,” she said, taking in Central Park below, the vast expanse of nature contrasted sharply against the concrete world around it. “No wonder you live here.”
She spun around and found Josh smiling with that loving look in his eyes again. Her heart warmed as she went to his side. “I love it,” she said. “This feels like you…only bigger.”
He smirked.
She swatted his chest. “Stop thinking about sex.”
He raised his eyebrows. “Wanna see the bedroom?”
She followed him down the hall and through a large sitting room with a magnificent fireplace. “Wow, this is incredible.” She noticed a Men’s Journal on the coffee table and more family photographs on the mantel. They walked through double pocket doors to the master bedroom, which was almost as large as the sitting room. The king-sized bed was placed off center, flanked by mahogany bedside tables, each topped with a lamp. The lamp on the left was more masculine than the one on the right, with a slightly darker shade and a chunkier base. The hardwood floor was partially covered with a deep white rug. In the corner of the room were two leather reading chairs with lights perched above and an oversized ottoman before them. Both of the chairs had soft-looking throws on them as well. In the center of the long dresser was a large framed family photo. Riley ran her finger over the children in the picture.
“Y’all were so young,” she said.
“That was taken in Wellfleet, Massachusetts, with my mom. We used to rent a little cottage there when we were young. Treat actually bought it a few years ago. That picture was taken the last time she was there.” He stared at the frame as he said it, as if memories were unraveling right before his eyes.
Riley went to the bed and sat, sinking into the thick comforter. “Who decorated?”
“You’re really asking me that? I did, of course.”
“Everything is made for a man and a woman, a very close couple, it seems.”
Josh smiled. “I guess I always hoped to find you,” he said, coming closer to her with a seductive look in his eye.
She patted the comforter. “This thing must be four inches thick.”
“Six.” He positioned himself above Riley, her feet between his, and leaned over her so she was forced to lie back on the bed.
“You are an overachiever,” she teased.
“So? Do you see me differently now, too?” He ran his hand beneath her shirt and kissed her cheek, planting a trail of kisses down her neck.
“I know you a little better now,” she said, lifting her head, baring more of her
beautiful neck.
“You do, do you?”
“I always knew family was important to you, but being in your home and seeing your family so alive in everything you own, it makes me feel like you’re the man I always thought you were.” Riley closed her eyes.
“And who is that man?”
“The man from Weston who puts family above all else. The man with a heart bigger than all of New York City,” she said in a breathy whisper.
Josh did a sexy striptease, then he teased and taunted Riley until she thought she’d lose her mind. And finally, he made sweet love to her.
After, as they lay together, he whispered, “I love you, Riley Banks.”
“I love you, too, but I really loved your little striptease.” She traced the line of his jaw with her finger, then kissed his chin. “How was the first woman in your bed?”
“Don’t you mean the first and last?” He pulled her into his arms and kissed her. “Perfect.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
RILEY HAD BEEN hunkered down, laboring over Josh’s dining room table all afternoon and into the evening, adding the final touches to Max’s wedding gown design. She’d changed into a cotton skirt that reached her ankles and a thin sweater, the sleeves pushed up to her elbows. Music filtered into the room through an intercom in the wall just beside the doorframe where Josh was leaning in his pressed jeans and polo shirt, a steaming mug of hot chocolate in each hand. She’d been working for hours, and Josh had tried to leave her alone and not hover like a needy boyfriend, but he found himself drawn to her, and every half hour or so he’d wandered into the room just to touch her shoulder or kiss her cheek. He loved knowing she was there. His apartment had felt different since she’d arrived. The starkness he’d felt that morning had dissipated. Now it felt more like home.
Riley set down her pencil and lifted her head, smiling when she noticed Josh. “Sorry I’ve been at it for so long,” she said.
“I could get used to this.” He handed her a warm mug.
“Mm. Thank you.” She took a sip. “Now I see why you moved here. Until the sun went down, the warmth of its rays through the windows was so inspiring. I swear, if I were you, I’d forget the office and just stay right here.” She ran her finger over the intricate carvings on the edge of the stately dining room table, upon which Josh had laid a worktop that he’d had specially made for the surface. “Of course, it does put a damper on the beauty of your dining room to have notes and drawings scattered about.”
He pulled out a chair and sat beside her. “I never entertain, so the dining room has been unused for the most part. It can get too quiet here when I’m alone.”
“I can see that. When I was talking with Max, I realized how much I missed working with the public. I know I have to learn the business, and I appreciate the opportunity, but I do miss interacting with customers.”
“You’ll do just that with the buyers at the trade show, and this”—he pointed to the wedding gown—“this will bring you to a whole other level. But do you think you’ll be happy when you’re a designer? There’s a lot of pressure, even more so than when you’re assisting, even though it seems the assistants do all the dirty work. And the people you’re designing for, at our level, they’re not Weston customers. Some of them are notoriously picky, conceited bastards. A designer’s life is not as glamorous as it looks from the outside.”
She reached out and touched his thigh. “I know. I’m not that naive. Josh, I know you love designing, but how do you really feel about the business of it? It’s just you and me here, and I’d never say anything to anyone.”
He looked at her then and knew he wanted to share this with her. There was no one in Josh’s life that he’d shared his real feelings about the business with, and he’d often wished there were. He put his hand on top of hers, and when he opened his mouth, the words tumbled out without hesitation.
“My whole life I have wanted to design. I was the kid who would critique the other kids at school. Only in my head, of course, and I didn’t do it purposely. It was like this little voice in my head would think, ‘If only she’d worn black heels instead of brown flats,’ or something equally as obnoxious. I’d watch Rex with all of his macho bravado, Dane with his penchant for risk taking, or Hugh and his need for speed, and for a while I wondered where I’d fit in.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Oh, Josh,” she whispered. “That’s so sad.”
“Not sad. It just made me work harder to figure out who I was. I’m loyal, dedicated—”
“Handsome, strong,” Riley added.
“I guess, and I’m nothing if not honest. I’m a definite Braden in all those ways, but I think I’m just more like my mother in the way that I like things to have a certain aura about them. She was like that, from what Treat says. He used to tell me that some mornings when he was young he’d wake up and the living room furniture would be completely reorganized. He said she’d just smile, like she’d done what any normal person would have done, and she’d lift her palms to the ceiling and say something like, ‘The energy in the room shifted’ or ‘The couch was blocking the sun from moving freely.’” He smiled at the memory. “Anyway, what I realized was that I’m every bit a Braden. I’ve got my father’s masculine looks and strength, but my mother’s design abilities.” His father, Hal Braden, was Treat’s height, and a rancher to his core, like Rex.
“And now that you’re in the business? Do you ever regret it?”
“No, never. The business has changed, though, and you probably don’t see it, but high fashion used to be exclusively for the wealthy. Fashion shows used to be the only way for buyers to get their hands on the new lines, but now, with the Internet and fashion at the world’s fingertips, it’s a whole different ball game. We have to stay three steps ahead at all times,” he explained.
“I know. I’ve read a lot about it. It’s no longer exclusively for the rich, but in some ways that’s a good thing,” Riley said.
“Absolutely. I agree, but it does mean working harder to set yourself apart. But it’s like anything else these days. Look at music and books. The minute they went online, prices dropped and numbers increased. It’s the way of the world.”
“Do you ever miss the less stressful side of things? Do you miss Weston?” Riley asked.
“When I first moved here, I was so glad to be out of the small-town environment that I think I didn’t miss it because of that. I finally lived someplace where the world didn’t revolve around horses and livestock. I know that sounds snotty, but at first, I did feel that way. After a while, and recently, I’ve missed something that I hadn’t even realized I’d left behind.” He looked away, realizing that he was about to reveal one of the most intimate things about himself to Riley.
“What was it?” she asked.
Her voice drew him back, and the love in her eyes brought him the comfort he needed to continue. “Seeing real love. A love that wasn’t driven by what someone could give a person, or their social stature. The one thing I had in my house that I’ve never seen replicated, except recently with Treat and Max and Rex and Jade, was the love my father had for my mother and the love he has always had for each of us. It’s almost like a physical being rather than a feeling, as stupid as that sounds.”
“But…”
“I know. My mother wasn’t there, so how could I see it? Riley, my mom died, but my father’s love for her is present in everything he does and says. He still talks to her, even now, so many years later. He swears she’s still around the ranch.” He searched her eyes for disbelief, but what he found was the complete opposite. Riley took his hands in hers and her eyes shone bright again.
“I believe that happens. I do. I think if you love someone enough, they never really leave. They’re always there in spirit.”
“You do?”
“Yes. I always have,” Riley answered.
He shook his head. “I never questioned it until I was an adult, and then I worried that maybe my father was a bit off. But the love that drives
him is so real, Riley. That’s what I’ve missed most. Seeing that love alive in his eyes. Feeling that love that he has for me and my sister and brothers. That kind of love isn’t all around you in the city—I doubt it’s abundant anywhere. But it’s always been there for me, and that’s what I miss most. I want to feel that love in my home and in my life. New York is fast and furious. Not that I want to move back home, but I want the warmth and depth of the love that exists there in my life. Here, in New York.” He moved his chair closer to her, settling her knees between his. “I missed that until you and I reconnected. I knew when we were at the concert that there was something about you that was different from anyone else. Riley, you filled that gap in my heart, and I hope that one day you feel the same way about me.”
RILEY KNEW THE dangers of bad relationships. She’d seen people fall out of love and she’d had too many friends feel second best to their boyfriend’s careers or hobbies. The span of time that had passed since she and Josh had gotten together was shorter than the amount of time it took to get a gun permit. But she had to admit that she felt every bit as in love with Josh as he was with her.
“I’m not one of those girls who spent years planning her perfect wedding, or conjuring up details of the perfect man. In fact, now that I think about it, I’ve spent very little time of my almost thirty-two years on earth thinking about settling down at all. I guess I always figured that if it was going to happen, it would happen, and I’d know when it was right.” Her heart swelled with love for him, and when she continued, her voice was thick with proof. “I didn’t feel fireworks when we first kissed. I felt the earth move, Josh. And every minute we’ve spent together since has had that same soul-altering effect. It doesn’t matter what we’re doing—making love or working. I think of you when you’re with me and I long for you when you’re not. You fill my heart too, and I want to make you feel every bit as wanted as you make me feel, and every bit as complete. I lived a long time without you by my side, and now I can’t understand how that ever felt right.”